Page 21 of I Love You in French

Gladys: Proof.

It’s a picture of Rafe leaning into a truck bed and pulling something out. I squeal and drop my phone.

“Everything okay?” His caramel-like voice cuts through the air.

Oh, gosh, no. I’m going to give that woman a piece of my mind when I see her next. I watch as Rafe bends to the ground to pick up my phone, and I look away before he stands up. He’s looking at me with a smirk as he hands my phone back to me.

“Looked like something either shocked you or burned you.”

Oh, you have no idea.

“Clumsy, I guess,” I manage to get out. Thankfully, he didn’t see the screen, but his expression tells me he’s enjoying the reaction he’s getting from me in this moment.

He’s about to say something else when I hear a thick French accent getting louder behind us.

“Sparrow!” Jacques yells, and Rafe flinches. Interesting. Jacques approaches and does a weird handshake thing that Rafe clearly has no idea what to do with.

Rafe makes a face, and thankfully, Jacques misses it as he pulls the woman I saw earlier closer to his side.

“Sparrow, this is Vivienne.” He smiles tightly.

She briefly dismisses me before she looks Rafe up and down, and I feel my hands clench into fists. Yes, he’s beautiful, but he’s more than a face and a body, for crying out loud. That’s why I’m still planning to talk Gladys into more appropriate usage of her smartphone camera.

Rafe must take my look to think I’m jealous of her since she’s with Jacques, when, honestly, I’m more upset at how she’s looking at him. He moves closer to me, and my world tilts as he moves his arm around me and pulls me closer. Jacques’ eyes slide down, taking in Rafe’s arm around me. Right, our fake date. I attempt to pull my brain back to the purpose of this charade: to make Jacques jealous. But I’m distracted. Even as tall as I am, I fit perfectly under his shoulder, his arm casually wrapped about my waist. Except, there’s nothing casual about it. I’m undone by his touch. I whip my head toward him, but he’s focused on whatever Jacques and Vivienne are saying, though the slight quirk of his mouth tells me he’s aware of the reaction he’s getting from me.

Well, two can play this game, buddy.

I feel like I’m on fire, but I will myself to wrap my arm around his waist, and oh good Lord, is this man made of muscle? I slip my thumb through the side of his belt loop to avoid actually touching him and applaud myself for holding it together. I may think Jacques is attractive, but even I can admit he’s got nothing on Rafe. It’s like comparing the sun with a lightbulb. Both give light, but only one is worth writing songs about.

This close to him, I smell cedar and a hint of something else I can’t name. Slowly, I close my eyes and let myself enjoy the moment, not caring if I become a statue. Just let me live here, people. Turn me into a monument if you have to.

“Sparrow?”

“Hmm . . .?” I open my eyes and notice that Jacques is gone, along with Vivienne, and I was in such a trance that about half of the room left with them too.

Rafe gently turns me to face him, and I don’t miss the moment his fingers casually brush the fallen pieces from my updo as I move. “Are you okay?” he asks, his brow slightly wrinkled as if he’s worried.

“Uh—yes. I’m okay?”

He visibly relaxes even though I answered with a question of my own. Because I realize I may not be fine at all. My lungs constrict. What am I doing? My eyes rove over his chiseled face and notice the scar in his eyebrow, the tick in his jaw. The man before me is an invitation to cross a line into an unknown world. Perhaps in Rafe’s world, I might not be as terrified to leave the comfort of the cage I’ve built around my heart.

“Good. I wasn’t sure when I saw Jacques here with someone if that would be hard for you. I mean, it must be, right?”

I look into his eyes and melt a bit at his concern.

“Oh—of course, yeah,” I muster. “Super hard.”

He nods in understanding and sighs. “Okay, well, are you hungry? My friend told me there’s only one diner open at this time of night just outside of town. I couldn’t believe him when he told me how early everything closes here. I’m used to places being open late, but at least there’s an option close to here.”

I look up at him questioningly. “I—uh—I’m not sure . . .” I trail off. I should call it. Let the chips fall and let this handsome no-longer-a-stranger tiptoe from my life. And suddenly, that feels wrong. So wrong.

“I just thought we could go over the terms, you know?” he says quickly. “If we’re going to be fake dating, I’m sure there are some rules we need to discuss.”

Rules? Right. I guess there should be something if we’re fake dating. But now, looking into his eyes as he waits for an answer, I see something I haven’t seen before: the sparkle of an adventure. And it’s right then and there I decide that I’m not going to pass on this opportunity to be close to him—even if I know I won’t be able to give my heart to him fully. I’ll try to remind myself again that Jacques is what I need. Wasn’t it only days ago that I would melt for him? I shake off the truth that I’ve never reacted to a man like I have the one near me now and that Rafe is willing to help me have a chance at the life I imagine, even though I’m already blatantly aware of the cracks in its foundation.

Rafe’s deep green eyes are a little hopeful, a little cautious. And something in me pulls at how maybe—impossible as it may seem—he might need me as a friend while he’s in town. Maybe, just this once, I can give myself permission to pretend that I’m less alone in the world than I am with a man like Rafe beside me.

“Oh, sure—yes. Let’s do it.” I make a weird gesture—like a thumbs-up but with my index fingers—and quickly hide them behind my back.

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